Tragic

In “Myth of Sisyphus”, Albert Camus wrote that “there is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest… comes afterwards. These are games.”

Suicide has become a pressing national concern in recent years as NSO statistics show a steady rise. A study conducted by Maria Redaniel et al., entitled ‘Suicide in the Philippines: time trend analysis and literature review’, found that suicide rates amongst men increased from 0.23 to 3.59 per 100,000 Filipinos between 1984 and 2005 while rates amongst women increased from 0.12 to 1.09 per 100,000 within the same timeframe. While admitting that suicide rates in the Philippines are still lower when compared to other countries in the Western Pacific, they cautioned that this was likely due to under-reporting because of its non-acceptance by the Church and the ‘associated disgrace and stigma to the family.’

But when the topic is something as tragic as suicide, there really is no such thing as a “low” figure. Indeed, it may only be considered comparatively low, but we should remain mindful that even one suicide is one too many.

Which brings me to the truly tragic death of 16-year-old Kristel Tejada. She was unhappy; she was depressed. Really, that’s all we know for certain. Part of the note she left behind read: “Mahal na mahal ko ang pamilya ko. At lahat ding iba pang nagmamahal sa akin. Di ko lang talaga rin kaya. Sana mapatawad at ipagdasal niyo ako. Salamat sa lahat magkikita pa ulit tayo. Sorry pero kailangan ko lang talagang gawin to. (I love my family very much, and all those who love me. I just cannot take it anymore. I hope you will forgive me and pray for me. Thank you for everything and we will see each other again. Sorry but I really need to do this).” This does not say much, only that she saw no other way out than to take her own life. Yet, people cannot help but search for someone to blame. Perhaps it is because suicide goes so strongly against the natural instinct to survive that people feel the need to explain it in some way.

In this case, while Kristel points no finger in her last note, we hear of contemporaneous events which perceptibly distressed her; topmost being her inability to carry on studying because of financial difficulties and a seemingly intransigent policy. The brunt of the public ire therefore has been directed at UP-Manila officials. They have been accused of being “ruthless and cold-hearted” in ignoring her pleas to continue school as she had failed to pay her tuition fee of just under P10,000. However, the irony appears to be that at a council meeting the day before she died, UP President Alfredo Pascual had reportedly “instructed the Chancellors of all UP units… that we should not deny access to qualified students who cannot enrol because of financial constraints.”

I have to say, I am not comfortable about the lynching, the automatic assignment of guilt to school officials. This isn’t to say that UP’s policies shouldn’t be reviewed or revised. If her death facilitates the process by which other poor yet deserving students are able to access education in our country, then perhaps that can provide a modicum of comfort to those who loved Kristel. But to be meaningful, reform must come in the shape of effective strategies, not hastily crafted plans with no view to sustainability.

Yet for someone as young as Kristel to take her own life is a tragedy of the highest order. Suicide has been a traditionally sensitive topic for our Church and is still considered a mortal sin. But our faith is a faith of love and forgiveness. Church catechism teaches us that we are responsible for our life before God and that suicide contradicts the natural inclination of the human being (CCC2280/1); but it (CCC2283) also tells us that “we should not despair of the eternal salvation of persons who have taken their own lives. By ways known to Him alone, God can provide the opportunity for salutary repentance.”

We do not know what was going through Kristel’s mind when she died. But what her note does ask for is prayer. Sana...ipagdasal niyo ako. Let’s give her this one last wish.

*      *      *      *

For those considering suicide, or know someone who is, please give the Manila Lifeline Centre a call for help at: (02) 8969191 or 0917-8549191.

*      *      *      *

Last Thursday, we lost beloved Constitutionalist Justice Isagani Cruz whose elegant, endearing and enlightened ponencias delighted many a law student as they provided a welcome respite from their regular fare of legalese, earning him the moniker “lyricist of the Court.” Indeed, his writings speak for themselves; let me provide my four centavos of praise by reproducing an excerpt from Javier v. COMELEC (1986), where he in turn paid tribute to another giant among men:

Let us first say these meager words in tribute to a fallen hero who was struck down in the vigor of his youth because he dared to speak against tyranny. Where many kept a meekly silence for fear of retaliation, and still others feigned and fawned in hopes of safety and even reward, he chose to fight. He was not afraid. Money did not tempt him. Threats did not daunt him. Power did not awe him. His was a singular and all-exacting obsession: the return of freedom to his country. And though he fought not in the barricades of war amid the sound and smoke of shot and shell, he was a soldier nonetheless, fighting valiantly for the liberties of his people against the enemies of his race, unfortunately of his race too, who would impose upon the land a perpetual night of dark enslavement. He did not see the breaking of the dawn, sad to say, but in a very real sense Evelio B. Javier made that dawn draw nearer because he was, like Saul and Jonathan, “swifter than eagles and stronger than lions.”

Like Evelio Javier, Justice Cruz was a patriot. He not only witnessed the breaking of the dawn, he made the light shine brighter. He was, in other words, a true legal luminary.  

*      *      *      *

“Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”  — John Donne

*      *      *      *

E-mail: [email protected]